Chapters (92)
- Cover
- Maps
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
- Chapter 86
- Epilogue
- About the Author
‘Well, some people are less than keen to have anything to do with you people. Besides, he was planning to use it against Björn.’
‘So, blackmail?’ Karen says doubtfully. ‘He was going to use his grandfather’s murder to extort Björn?’
‘Look, I don’t know and, to be honest, I don’t give a shit. But he did say he was going to drop the bomb at the party unless Björn did as he was told. “I’m going to break the bastard” were the exact words he used.’
Just then, Karen’s phone buzzes and the coroner’s name lights up the screen.
‘Hiya, Kneought,’ Karen says. ‘Could you hold on for just one moment?’
Odd has already opened the door and is halfway out the car. Then he turns around and fixes her with a level look.
‘Keep me out of this,’ he says. ‘I never forget a promise.’
Chapter 68
68
‘You’re not as dumb as you look,’ Kneought Brodal says.
Karen can feel her pulse quicken. She forces herself to listen patiently while Brodal expounds on the deficiencies of the material he was sent and explains that it must be a mere fraction of the documentation Fredrik Stuub had available to him and that what he’d read should rightfully be viewed as little more than a very rough summary.
‘All right, all right, I get it!’ she exclaims finally. ‘But you’re saying I was right about what it implies? Some kind of link between mould at Groth’s distillery and damage to human nerve cells?’
‘Yes, you were right about that part. The results are hardly statistically significant, but it does look like Fredrik Stuub found – or at least thought he’d found – a link between the stuff leaking out of the warehouses and a disproportionate number of certain medical diagnoses.’
‘Alzheimer’s?’
‘Among others. Apparently, he was able to show a small but measurable increase in the number of diagnosed cases in populations living near distilleries.’
‘Near Groth’s, you mean? Because I don’t think there are any other distilleries in this country, are there? Well, except down on Frisel, but they make gin and snaps. Did he find the same pattern down there?’
‘No, they don’t use barrels. Baudoinia requires spirits maturing in wooden barrels to form and contaminate the surrounding environment.’
‘But he did find a correlation on Noorö?’
‘Sadly, yes, and not only there. According to Stuub’s documentation, he found the same statistical increase in degenerative dementia in other countries in areas where spirits are matured in barrels. And at a younger age than in the control groups, too, I’m afraid.’
‘Are you sure?’